


Exordium

by AsTheDayDies, OneWingedSeraph



Series: Into the Grey [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsTheDayDies/pseuds/AsTheDayDies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWingedSeraph/pseuds/OneWingedSeraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can Kaynik Dross, a Drell assassin, befriend the xenophobic former Cerberus agent Amelia Grey? </p><p>ME3 spoilers referenced</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exordium

            The music pulsed and the bass shuddered through the floor while the large holographic cylinder flashed magenta in the center, casting shadows on the Asari dancers as they dipped and ground wildly to the music. Groups of patrons danced on their own or in small groups off along the edge, and more clandestine members kept to the side. It was just another day in Afterlife, the main attraction and mercenary-run bar/night-club on Omega.

            Amelia Grey tilted the shot of blue liquid back, slamming the empty glass on the bar with a loud thud. She cast a sidelong glance up toward the viewing booth where Aria stood, looking down on the rest of them. She may have been Asari, but Amelia respected the control she had on Omega.

            _Had,_ Amelia reminded herself. When Cerberus had taken over, it left Aria and many others without anything, though the Asari mercenary queen quickly regained her former control once Cerberus had been chased off. And now, with Omega being built up again, it left room for some new blood. Anyone skilled with a gun and guts beyond reason had a chance.

            And that's how Amelia found herself here now. With her experience in war, this mercenary stuff had been a cinch. But it didn't make for many friends. In fact, most everyone was regarded as competition.

            _Someday_ , she thought, her eyes narrowing at the Asari upstairs. _I'll have that respect. I'll be in charge. No one will mess with me again._

            Across the room, Kaynik Dross had an easy time of slipping between bodies, dodging through the throngs of dancers and dipping into shadows; the pounding music and overlying darkness was perfect for assassins, and the Drell had to wonder how much of the club’s ambience was due to Aria’s desire to make certain jobs easier. The thought amused him.

            He had already found his target some ten minutes ago and he had taken his time, following Cameen, a Batarian Blue Sun captain, all the way to the darkest corners of Omega, Afterlife included. Now, he made his way across the dance floor, silent steps leading him to the bar where he could continue to keep his eye on the target. Aria didn’t care for bloodshed in her club, unless she was the one ordering it to be spilt.

            Waving away the barkeep, he sat beside a human female, soldier-type if he’d ever seen one, and watched the Batarian as he sat at one of the tables, enjoying the company of one of the Asari dancers.

            Amelia shifted slightly in her seat as the Drell sat next to her. He was unusually pigmented, at least as far as she had seen Drell, his scales pale compared to the normally bright hues of his people. But she also did not see too many on Omega anyway.

            A brief flash of panic surged adrenaline through her veins. Yes, why would a Drell be here? No, he did not look like the assassin that she had seen in the Intel from earlier in the week. But the thought set her on edge all the same.

            He carried himself smoothly, calmly. She noted he didn't order a drink. _Odd behavior for someone in a bar,_ she thought.

            She called over the bartender and got a refill on her shot. "What will you be having?" she asked coolly, looking ahead. She turned her head over her shoulder, her curls draping in a tangled mess over her tattoos. "I'll have the same." Her eyes flashed both a challenge and a warning.

            Kaynik shifted his gaze from the Batarian to the woman beside him, his dark eyes flickering over her posture, to the visible tattoos, to the empty glass before her, to the dog tags resting just beneath her collarbone, to the daring look in her eyes. _Interesting._ He did not miss both the Harrier and set of arc grenades on her belt.

            Adjusting his weight, he dipped his head forward in greeting and acknowledgment.  “Thank you for the kind offer, but I do not drink,” he said, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the music.

            She cocked an eyebrow in mock surprise. Not one for subtleties, she got right to the point. "Then, I take it you’re here for the dancing?" she questioned sarcastically. She brought one hand down to her holster and tapped on the hilt of her weapon. "Or you here for some cash? Or maybe some other business venture? Omega is good for making a name for yourself."

            A small smile played over his lips and then was gone as he cocked his head. His gaze paused on the implants along her right arm. “I already have a name for myself, Miss…?”

            “Grey.”

            “Miss Grey. But if you insist, I could be persuaded to drink, or dance.” The last was said with a hint of amusement. Cameen was not going anywhere anytime soon and Kaynik certainly did not want to stand out.

            Amelia could not mask her surprise at his bemused reply. She shook her head and knocked back the second shot she had ordered since he had arrived. "It'd take more than a handful of these to insist anything of the sort, Mr. Drell...and, uh, what's the name you've supposedly made?"

            With one last glance in Cameen’s direction, Kaynik dipped his head again as he turned his full attention to the woman before him. “Halen Nasrim,” he answered, using one of his aliases. Adjusting his position on the seat, he allowed himself to become more comfortable, though he was still ready to follow his mark if the need arose. “But you can call me Halen."

          "Sure thing, _Halen_ ," she said the name with little conviction, not sure it was his real name, but she didn't really care. She was one of the few who gave out her real name in this place, but she couldn't figure out why it mattered; it was more interesting to be a target some days then to wait for life to happen.

          "Tell me, Miss Grey, do you often offer to purchase alcohol for whomever sits beside you?”

            "No," she said simply. "Only when I'm trying to bribe them." She waited until she got the bartender’s attention, and ordered a lager, foamy and sweet. "Do you often go to nightclubs without intent to drink or dance?

            Chuckling, Kaynik turned his gaze over the nightclub, watching the different types of people as they danced, the strobe lights sending an almost scattering form of after images onto the dance floor. “To be honest, I do not frequent them that often. How often do you bribe strangers at a bar?”

            Amelia looked at him from under her angled brows. "Only when I think they're there to kill me. Much more enjoyable when settled over some drinks. Ammunition is expensive in the Omega economy." She took a moment to watch him, follow his gaze across the bar, hunting for his interest. "So, what brings you to Omega? Hunting for a well-paid bounty?"

            “Sorry to disappoint, Miss Grey, but no, nothing so fascinating.” He brought his gaze back to hers, that small smile playing about his lips again. “Only…relocation.”

            "Wow, you should reconsider your housing agent,” she sniped. “This place is hell. Unless, of course, you're looking to get away." There was a gathering of armored aliens gathering in one end of the nightclub that caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed. One individual at the front, a Batarian, seemed to be taking names.

            "Duty calls. So long, Drell," she said, pointedly calling him by his race rather than his name, and walked over nonchalantly to the thickest part of the crowds. She shouldered her way between dancers, and then the armored clan without a care or concern and aimed her SMG into the ceiling, firing off a quick round burst.

            "What does it pay?" she asked calmly.

            The Batarian recruiter looked at her without amusement. "The assignment is—"

            "Unimportant. What does it pay?" she asked again, with a hint of steel in her tone.

            Smirking, the Batarian glanced at one comrade before answering, "Ten thousand credits to the unit who can complete it."

            "So then solo I take all?"

            He cackled loudly. "Or die, human."

            "I accept."

            A small outcry among the mercenary groups began, shouting wildly and staking their claim. A Krogan positioned himself in front of her in an attempt at intimidation. Amelia's skin began to crackle with biotics and she growled in return.

            Kaynik did not move as the woman suddenly rose and left. If he were surprised by the suddenness of her departure, he was good at hiding it, simply watching her from the corner of his eye as she walked back across the dance floor toward a group near the opposite wall. Though he could not hear what was said, he could guess from the frustrated body language that the human woman had done enough to upset the group she had interrupted.

            He glanced up at the viewing booth, watching as Aria gave a discreet nod of her head to the bodyguards near her. Several moved for the stairs.

            With one last look at Cameen, who watched the going’s on with a hint of enjoyment, Kaynik brought his gaze back to the group, watching as the familiar sapphire hue of biotics danced across Amelia’s bare arms. He folded his arms over his chest and watched, wondering just what this small human was planning.

            The Krogan leaned back, readying for a lethal head-butt. Amelia expected as much, since she had egged him on intentionally. She grabbed the nearest mercenary and swept him up in a dance-like spin, switching positions and allowing him to take the brunt of the attack while the Krogan was hit by the Batarian's blade armor. The Batarian stumbled a moment before slipping to the ground, unconsciousness, and the Krogan, though only slightly injured, was less inclined to go in alone a second time.

            "Wanna try again, meathead?" she asked with a coy smile. _Krogans are so easily agitated_.

            The ambitious, albeit simple, Krogan charged in a headlong dash straight for her glowing form. Using a biotic dash, she slipped away at the last second. She took a solid hit to her shoulder, the force cutting through the flesh, but stopping at her implant. However, the Krogran went headlong into the largest portion of the group, who never expected the Krogan to rush into them.

            Smiling at sight unfolding before him, Kaynik allowed himself to enjoy the brewing fight all while keeping an eye on Cameen. Several of the patrons by the bar turned their attention to the dance floor as the Krogan stumbled. He had to admit that the human cut an impressive figure as she stood there, her shoulder split and bleeding, her eyes daring as she stared down the recruiter with flashing eyes.

            "I didn't fire a single shot during the entire.. _.altercation_ , and I already took out two-thirds of these idiots. Now, are you hanging your hope of success on them, or will you throw _me_ out there? At the worst, I die and every other idiot gets a shot." The blood trickled down her arm but she made no move to stem the flow.

            The Batarian laughed. "You've got guts, I'll admit that. And either way, I'll enjoy the damage you make. Or the death you find. Sure, Human. The job is yours."

            Kaynik chuckled quietly, admiring, at the least, her bravery. His gaze shifted to Cameen as the Batarian shifted uneasily, watching his comrades get pushed around. The human mercenary really had made this entire job too easy. Once the Batarian left the bar, Kaynik would finish the job.

            She nodded curtly and stalked past the few remaining hopefuls with slack jaws and wide eyes.

            _Heh_.

            Amelia stalked past the bar, grabbed a final shot, and headed outside to the rest of Omega to grab her gear, self-tend her injuries, and read up on her job.

            Only the very observant would notice a small hint of pain in her smug look, the use of her biotics taking their usual toll.

            And Kaynik was nothing if not observant. He watched until the mysterious Miss Grey left Afterlife, following some time later as his mark made his way out into the dirty air of Omega and disappearing into the shadows just outside the club. Unfortunately for Cameen, the Drell remained unseen up until the moment he knocked the Batarian out with a quick blow to the back of his head. An hour later, he and his mark were making their way to the Citadel.

 

Roughly one year later

 

            The Citadel was bustling with all people types, civilians seeking shelter from the Reapers and Cerberus, C-Sec working to keep the peace, tentative as it was, and soldiers preparing to ship out. Even the famous Normandy and her crew were there, the beloved Commander Shepard fulfilling Spectre duties and re-supplying before heading to Tuchanka.

            Kaynik had just finished his most recent briefing with the hanar and had made his way to the tower at the center of the Presidium, silently making his way to where he would be joining Admiral Ravin on his journey, along with his crew on the SSV Jakarta to help the rebuilding of the monastery on Lesuss. Though he wanted to do more in the war against the Reapers, the hanar insisted that he help in this mission.

            Making his way past several flowering trees and beautifully ornate fountains, Kaynik passed a collection of soldiers gathered for orders.

            Amelia waited in line, her helmet nestled under one arm. Her armor was black and had a distinctive red stripe and the N7 insignia emblazoned above her right breast. Her hair, at least the unshaven portion, was shorter now, as if it were growing out from a military shave. Her gaze was flitting across the Citadel, attempting to take in as much of the Normandy as she could. It was a beautiful ship.

            "You will be sent out to post 3.45332, Earth Colony Haverty. Our intelligence tells us that the Reapers have entered the space adjacent. Your job will be to defend and arm the colonists. You've done this before. You will do it again." The commander continued on in the speech as a few spectators gathered, some in admiration of their bravery to go and seek out the Reapers, while others mocked their stupidity and urged others to give in the flow of the universe and accept that their time had come.

            Hearing part of the Alliance commander’s speech, as well as the grumbling of nearby civilians, Kaynik paused to listen. _Another group heading off to defend their colonies. Amonkira, grant them swiftness; too many have been lost already._

He moved to continue, seeing his liaison waiting at the next set of stairs, but as he glanced along the lines of soldiers, a familiar face caught his attention and he slowed. The dark brown hair was shorter now, the features more worn, and her slender frame was encased in armor, but he recognized her all the same.

            _Looks like Miss Grey managed that mission all by herself after all._

            As Amelia took in the faces surrounding her (and occasionally replying with a stern look at the naysayers), she caught sight of a familiar, pale, alien face. She sent her eyes away, caging them instantly and turning her attention back on her commanding officer.

            "You depart at 1800," the commanding officer concluded, giving Amelia and her N7 comrades a full five hours before they were thrown back into the galactic fray. "Dismissed!"

            A few other N7 operatives approached her, and they talked jovially for few moments before departing to the civilian sector of the Citadel, toward The Overlook, a restaurant overlooking the end of the Citadel that allowed you to watch space revolve as you enjoyed your meal or liqueurs.

            Kaynik had already passed most of the soldiers as the commander finished speaking, but he paused long enough to cast another look over his shoulder. He had not missed Amelia’s  reaction to him and he could not help but wonder why she seemed so upset at seeing him. He remembered their entire first meeting perfectly and nothing came to mind. But even as he considered what might have happened, his liaison beckoned him closer and he put the once mercenary, now soldier from his mind.

            After a hearty meal with her comrades, Amelia wanted time to herself. No alcohol could be in her drink, so she stuck to simple caffeine in the form of hot coffee. She leaned across a railing, looking out over the center of the Citadel, watching as people above and below milled about their business.

            _How many know that they are so close?_ she wondered, thinking of the Reapers. _They think they're so safe out here, going on with their lives. Why don't they prepare? Do they always expect us to be there for them?_

Amelia scoffed. She never counted on anyone else to be there.

            She sipped the coffee, enjoying the warmth as it slid down her throat. So few pleasures were afforded someone like her. She would get all of it where she could.  
Amelia checked her watch and sighed. No point in wishing it away. She tossed the cup into a recycler and headed toward the Presidium to board. Before heading to the Valor, she paused to take in a good look at the Citadel. _So long._

Across the Presidium, the meeting with Admiral Ravin had been finished within minutes and Kaynik had spent some time talking with the crew and making small-talk. He had the rest of the day to himself now, though he was already prepared to go. Walking along the Presidium, he watched the shuttles go by.

            Kaynik paused as he came to the base of set of stairs leading up to the Overlook, his gaze caught on the familiar sight of Miss Grey. He looked up at her for a long moment, running over their last meeting again, the scene flashing clearly in his mind. _What did I do to upset her?_ And why did this one little human’s reaction matter?

            Amelia turned to head back to Valor, satisfied that the image of peace had been burned into her brain.Her nose crinkled as she saw the Drell again. "So, 'Halen,' what _work_ brings you the Citadel?" she asked with a small measure of sarcasm, crossing her arms across her armor.

            “Not ‘relocation’.” He smiled despite himself and bowed his head in greeting. “I’m joining the SSV Jakarta to Lusess, helping the soldiers in rebuilding the monastery there."  
         She quirked an eyebrow. "Well, I had assumed it wasn't the drinking or dancing."  
        "I should apologize; my name is actually Kaynik Dross.”

She leaned against the railing, looking out over the pedestrians as she replied. "Some name. I've long since learned the particular skill set that goes behind it. You've been busy."

            Pausing, she considered the rest of his words. She gave him an incredulous look. "A monastery? At a time like this? Why bother? Until we stop the Reapers…" She nodded her head, answering her question herself. _Well, that's_ our _job, right? Humans? To sacrifice and save the day?_

            “Why bother?” He slowly made his way up the stairs, turning aside to let a couple pass. “Because the people there are suffering. Should they not be protected as you are going to Haverty to teach the colonists to do the same?”

            She did not bother to meet his gaze. "I'm helping by meeting the threat directly and enabling others to stay alive, not encouraging them to focus on nonessentials. Your time and their resources would be better spent assisting the Resistance." _Least of all religion. Gah._ "Unless, of course, you subscribe to the 'some higher being has deemed it time’ fatalistic ideology. In which case, sure. Do nothing." _Like everyone else._ Her resentment for both religion and the complacency of most races during this crisis was obvious.

            Kaynik did not speak for a long time, his dark gaze holding fast on her face. It all made sense now. Her immediate dismissal of him, even before he uttered a word. Her insistence in ignoring him, as though he were not worth the time. Her venom for peoples different than her.

            “That is a very selfish point of view, Miss Grey,” he said softly. “And a very uninformed one at that. Do you know who lives on Lusess? I hope you will not mind in my assuming that you do not, seeing as how one of your own risked the lives of all those aboard the Normandy to _save_ those who live at the monastery.” His voice softened even further and he stopped a polite arm’s-length from the woman. “Or perhaps you think that the poor souls there deserve to be turned into some form of soulless husks. After all, so many in Cerberus think the possible gain is worth the risk.”

            A hint of frustration entered his tone, but she would barely be able to hear the rumble in his chest. “Or perhaps, you think that the Reapers’ attacks on humans should take the entirety of our universe’s attention and that the atrocities on Palaven and Thessia and countless other worlds can be ignored, so long as the needs of the ‘others’ you speak of—all humans on Haverty, last I heard—are focused upon. So, tell me, Miss Grey, are the deeds the crew of the Jakarta and I hope to do, truly doing nothing, or is it simply nothing you find worthwhile?”

            She held his gaze for as long as she could endure. Though she would never say so aloud, the Drell eyelids really creeped her out, almost to the point of not being able to hear what he said. But only almost.

            A flare of frustration flashed inside of her. How dare he pretend to know anything about Cerberus or the front lines? "You wanna know what I think? I think that no one else will do a damn thing until the Reapers consume humanity, seeing as how every-freaking-one is calling for our blood on the frontlines, _our_ soldiers. We're expendable, and it's obvious. I mean, while we face the Reapers head on, stopping them on account of _everyone_ , the other council races drag their feet, waiting for us to die out. And you know what?" She placed her hands on her hips, "Cerberus has a few things right. If they weren't willing to risk taboo, Shepard wouldn't even _be_ here! So I don't wanna hear about Cerberus! If you wanna trash talk anybody, it's the Illusive Man. That bastard screwed us all over." _Why do I even bother?_

            She turned toward the Presidium, ready to cut her personal time short. "I'm going to go and try to save the universe now. But don't bother thanking me." _No one else does._

            Kaynik watched as the woman got defensive, and hid his surprise as she made her loyalties clearer. But her frustration, and obvious racism, rattled him. _Hypocrite,_ he thought briefly.

            “Your passion is admirable,” he said as she turned to walk away, his voice carrying clearly. “But it risks being ruined by your prejudiced mindset. No life is above another and we will both go where we are sent.” His gaze shifted to the ships as they prepared for the journeys abroad, before he brought his gaze back to her. “Thank you for your service, Lieutenant. I will pray for your safety and success.”

            Amelia paused in walking away, clearly unnerved by his sentiment. _Prayers are too little too late for me, Drell._ Her jaw clenched, but she moved forward, trying to drown out his even, persistent voice with the dull thud of her combat boots against the cool metal.

            Still, as she boarded the Valor and stalked to her quarters, his even, vibrating voice repeated itself clearly in her mind: _Thank you…I will pray for your safety and success._

_Thank you…_


End file.
